


Come Home To Me

by ninjamcgarrett



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Implied Smut, M/M, Make Up, fight, fluffy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamcgarrett/pseuds/ninjamcgarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iker and Sergio fight about a rather inappropriate comment Terry makes during a match but work through it. Implied smut at the end with fluff to make up for all of you crying over the fight. Cheers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Home To Me

It was the eighty-second minute of the game and Real was up two goals to none against Chelsea in the quarterfinals of the UEFA Championship. Sergio shoved a hand through his damp hair as he ran down the pitch, the ball between his feet. He shot the ball to Higuain and shouted for Ronaldo to get into scoring position. Terry, who had been relentless in guarding him, smirked as he shoved against Sergio to keep him from advancing closer to the box.

“Get out my way, Terry!” Sergio snapped, trying to dodge around him.

“Why don’t you bend over and take it like you do to Iker?” he shouted in Sergio’s ear as Sergio tried to push past him to help his team.

That pulled Sergio up short and he looked over his shoulder at Terry, who wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and made a crude gesture before trying to shoot past Sergio. Without even thinking, seeing nothing but red and feeling rage over the insult, Sergio caught up to him and subtly tripped him. Terry fell flat on his face but the ref didn’t see the call and refused to listen to Terry when the man jumped to his feet, screaming for a yellow card to be assigned to Sergio.

Real won the game but Sergio didn’t stick around to celebrate. He showered and changed, leaving the locker room and driving through Madrid until his blood pressure returned to a somewhat normal level. He arrived home to a dark house late at night and found Iker sitting at the dining table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him.

“We missed you in the locker room after the match,” he said softly as Sergio dropped his bag by the front door.

Sergio shrugged. “Didn’t feel like celebrating,” he said simply as he hung his keys on the peg by the door.

“Cris overheard what John said. I’m surprised you didn’t deck him.”

Sergio looked up then, pain in his eyes. “I wanted to, Iker. God, I wanted to punch his lights out for saying that about you.” He curled his hands into fists at his side, realizing that they were shaking. “I just – I hate it when people talk about you like that.”

Iker stood and walked over to Sergio, who seemed immobilized by the front door. He placed his hands on Sergio’s face and smiled.

“I don’t mind – because they can’t hurt us. We’re better than them. We have each other. I love you, Sese. They were just words, nothing more.”

Sergio pulled out of Iker’s reach and shook his head. “That’s the thing. It wasn’t just Terry. It’s the tabloids, the hate mail the office gets, the snide remarks from other teams. I hate it. I hate how they talk about you. It’s not fair. I can deal with it about me; you know I’ve dealt with my share of hate from the press and the fans. But when it’s about you – God, it just makes my blood boil.”

He looked up into Iker’s eyes. “I never wanted you to deal with this when we started dating. You’re my everything, Iker, but I hate when I can’t protect you from the hate in the world.”

“Sese, I’m okay. Terry’s an ass and is known for saying stupid shit. Just breathe, okay?”

Sergio frowned. “That’s not the point. It’s – I – you – I’m a defender, okay?” he finally spat out. “It’s my job to defend you, on the pitch, off it, wherever. I’ll take all the hate in the world for this relationship, but when they go after you – ”

Iker cut him off. “Sergio, stop. Terry was insulting you, not me with what he said. I think you’re really just upset about what he said. You’ve always been touchy about this kind of stuff.”

“Are you saying I’m overly emotional about this?” Sergio said, suddenly very still. “I’m – _overreacting_ , is that it? You think I’m being, what, hysterical because Terry insulted my masculinity?”

There was a pause and then Iker sighed and nodded. “Sese, we’ve dealt with worse than him. Besides, he doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Our team loves us and supports us, so do our family and Mou, and most of the fans still love us. And we have each other. That’s what matters. Terry can fuck off.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sergio said, his voice climbing in octave. “He fucking insulted us! He basically called me a little bitch for any commentator who’s good at lip-reading to see!”

Sergio threw his hands up in frustration. “I can’t do this anymore.”

A surprised look entered Iker’s eyes. “Can’t do what anymore?” he asked carefully, eyeing his partner.

“I don’t know!” Sergio shouted, grabbing his keys. “I’m leaving.”

Fear flashed in Iker’s eyes. “Are you coming back?” he asked quietly, not daring to breathe.

Sergio didn’t answer, he turned and opened the door, shutting it behind him resolutely. He crossed the porch and made it down two steps before his knees gave out under him and he sank down onto the steps of the house he shared with Iker. Sergio scrubbed his hands over his face, his hands shaking, and fisted them in his short hair. He concentrated on breathing, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

Had he really just walked out on Iker? They had been together almost two years and had had fights before but never one where he had walked out. Sergio felt awful for hurting Iker like that, but he felt even worse for overreacting to Terry’s comment and then taking it out on Iker. In all the firestorm of media attention they’d garnered when they had gone public with their relationship, Iker had stood by his side, quiet, resolute, and never once flinching over the insults and slurs hurled at them. Through it all, the long nights, the press conferences, the moment they had told the team, Iker had gripped his hand tightly to keep him calm and centered. Now, Sergio had just thrown all of that in his face with one emotional outburst after a single comment from a man known in the world of football as a loud-mouthed ass.

Sergio bit his lip, fighting the tears that were building in his closed eyes. A few tears slipped out against his will and disappeared into his scruff. He folded his arms on his knees and buried his face in his arms, more tears falling at the guilt and heartbreak he felt.

Two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him to a very solid and warm chest. Iker’s nose and lips settled in Sergio’s mussed hair and Sergio could feel Iker’s sigh. The goalkeeper held his co-captain as Sergio turned and nosed into Iker’s chest, his tear-stained face burying in Iker’s shoulder. Sergio inhaled deeply, dragging the calming scent of Iker deep into his lungs. He stayed there, held and safe, until the tears stopped and he could breathe somewhat normally again.

Sergio shoved a hand between their bodies to wipe the tear tracks from his face and pulled back from Iker.

“How did you know I was still here?” he asked, his red eyes studying Iker.

A sad smile appeared as Iker answered. “I didn’t hear your car start. That, and I looked out the window,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Sergio chuckled, his voice cracking from crying. A moment of stillness passed as Iker held Sergio’s hands and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the defender’s knuckles. Finally, Sergio looked up, guilt and grief evident in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were right, I really overreacted. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Shh,” Iker murmured. “It’s alright. I spoke too harshly.”

Sergio shook his head. “No, it’s not. I walked out on you. I hurt you. That’s – not okay, ever. I swear to you, Iker, I love you and never want to hurt you. I just – God, I shouldn’t have walked out. I – I understand if you don’t trust me anymore and if you’re really angry.”

“Sese, I love you. Even when you’re mad and going off like a bottlerocket after the Cope del Ray final. Sometimes walking out is needed so that you can cool your head. I knew you wouldn’t leave me forever because I know you and how you work. You just needed air to clear your mind. I get that. I still trust you. I still love you. Yes, I was upset and hurt by what you said.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sergio interjected, tears filling his eyes again.

Iker cupped Sergio’s cheek and rubbed his thumb across Sergio’s cheekbone. “I know, Sese, I know. You weren’t trying to hurt me. You were hurt by Terry and you were angry and you didn’t know how to deal with what he said. I get why you lashed out. Breathe, love, you’re okay. _We’re_ okay.”

Sergio looked surprised. “Really? Can you ever forgive me for what I did, what I said?”

Iker nodded, smiling. “Yes, I do forgive you. I’ve lashed out at you before and you forgave me. We would have crashed and burned a long time ago if we didn’t love each other because we wouldn’t have been able to forgive one another. I love you, Sese.”

He leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to Sergio’s lips before moving to trail kisses across the drying tearstains on his cheeks while murmuring “I love you” over and over. Sergio sighed and practically melted into Iker’s hold, his hands wrapping around Iker and sliding up under Iker’s shirt to cling to warm skin in the cool April night air.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept whispering as Iker continued to kiss him.

“Shh, Sese, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Iker said reassuringly as he nuzzled his nose against Sergio’s.

Sergio pulled back from the warm embrace and looked at Iker, studying his partner’s face for the confirmation in Iker’s gaze. When he found the quiet love and strength in Iker’s eyes, he kissed Iker.

“Make love to me, Iker, please,” he said, nosing into Iker’s neck to inhale the goalkeeper’s scent again as he kissed the tender skin there.

Iker stood and pulled Sergio to his feet, leading them both into the house and up the stairs to their master bedroom. He backed Sergio toward the bed, kissing the defender, one hand wrapped in his hair and the other hiking Sergio’s shirt up so that Iker could palm Sergio’s muscled hips. Iker hooked an ankle behind Sergio’s legs and tripped them onto the bed. He landed atop Sergio’s body and wedged a thigh between Sergio’s, groaning when Sergio arched up against him.

Iker leaned back to pull his shirt over his head as Sergio did the same. Sergio pulled the other man back down to him and kissed him hungrily.

“How do you want me?” Iker asked after a moment, slightly breathless from the ferocity of Sergio’s kiss.

Sergio wrapped his legs around Iker’s hips and grinned. “Like this, so I can swallow your moans as you take me.” One eyebrow quirked up in a smile as he said, “Besides, I’m not giving that ass Terry more ammunition to use against us, so you won’t be bending me over any time soon.”

Iker put his head down on Sergio’s shoulder and couldn’t help but chuckle long and hard for a moment before he finally managed to spit out, “Or we could always take a picture of it and send it to him just to torture him.”

Sergio couldn’t help but laugh, his arms wrapped around Iker, his whole body shaking with laughter over Iker’s suggestion. The two men held each other as they laughed. Sergio pulled Iker’s face from his shoulder and kissed him tenderly, a smile still evident on his lips.

“God, I love you, Iker. When I forget how to laugh, you always show me the way.”

Iker smiled and nipped Sergio’s lower lip gently. “I love you too, Sese. You’re my light in the darkness, my reason to come home after each match.”

He kissed Sergio fully then, both men losing themselves in the kiss. It was a long time before they slept that night…


End file.
